


Once Upon a Cosette

by FlickerInTheDark



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Bedtime Stories, Childhood, Children's Stories, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Fluffy, Nostalgia, Traditions, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 11:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8205046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlickerInTheDark/pseuds/FlickerInTheDark
Summary: Valjean buys Cosette a book. This book teaches everyone something new.





	

Cosette was living with Jean Valjean for about a month, when he gave her a gift.

 

“For me monsieur, I mean papa?” Cosette said happily.

“Yes, ma petite!” he said smiling.

Valjean loved to read; it was a leisure activity he had not been able to enjoy for most of his life. He decided to make up for lost time by reading anything and everything. Cosette had been deprived of reading as well. He sought to encourage her reading and read to her. She was only 7 so; he wasn’t going to read her Voltaire obviously. He decided to have her read something fun.

 

At the bookshop, he saw many books that caught his fancy. He was hoping to find one about classic stories. _Perhaps a princess and a brave knight or maybe on of pixies_. His sister when he was young would tell him stories and he hoped to find them to share with Cosette. He selected on he thought suitable. The book had a lovely illustration of a princess on the first page. The pages had small pictures to accompany the stories. When he had gone to purchase it, the shop owner looked surprised. That book was very expensive and no one had bought in since it entered his store and that was 2 years ago. Not many people bought their children books like these and the fact it sold made the owner scratch his head.

 

Valjean was ready to pay for anything his little Cosette wished. He delighted in seeing her face light up. She had never had much in her life and now, she would have what every girl in France should have and then some.

 

“Might we read a story tonight?” she asked excitedly tracing the vines that were drawn on the cover.

 

“Of course!”

 

“What do these words say?” she said pointing to the fancy writing.

 

“ _A Collection of Stories Old and New_ that means there are many stories,” he said.

 

Cosette was nearly giddy for bed. She had never wanted to go to bed, she always thought being awake with Papa to be more exciting. And besides that nightmares that crept into her mind at night scared her. She relived old memories and her mind was so used to the abuse at the inn, in the dreams, her mind thought of new terrors

 

That night before bed, she went into her papa’s room. She liked it in there. He didn’t know, that her room was considerably colder and that his room was warm and felt safe. He was sitting in the armchair with the book.

 

“Ready?” he said sitting her on his lap. She nodded and he began. The first story was about a princess of pixies. Cosette was quiet but her eyes were alight with curiosity. Once the princess was safe from and evil troll, Valjean closed the book.

 

“That was lovely,” she said wistfully.

 

“It was. I am glad you enjoyed it,” he said.

 

“One more?” she asked.

 

“Not tonight, it is already late. We will read another tomorrow my love,” he said.

 

“Aww, oh well. I wish I was the fairy princess, I would love to have wings,” she said with a fake put.

 

“Chin up. After you say your prayers you might dream of being a fairy, there are no rules in dreams,” he said laughing.

 

Cosette was so happy she skipped off to bed. She did not have any bad dreams that night and in fact slept in.

 

It was 8 a Cosette was not up. She was generally up at 7. He decided to let her sleep in, but after an hour, the food would dry out. He decided to wake her up. He talked down the hall and knocked.

 

“Cosette? Time to awake,” he said pleasantly through the door. No response, which made him worry. He had the fears a mother would have. In his mind he had crazy ideas in his head. Crazy ideas like the stories in the fairy tale book.

 

“I am coming in,” he said and opened the door. She was sleep, so continently; he blonde hair was splayed out. Her hands were together as if praying, under her head. She looked so cozy, but if he didn’t wake her up, she would never be able to sleep that night.

 

“My princess, your castle awaits,” he said, brushing her hair from her eyes. Her eyes began to flicker open.

 

“Papa! I had the best dream!” she said excitedly, “You were right, I was dreaming I was a lovely fairy. Oh, and you were in it!”

 

“I was, was I?” he said jovially, “Pray tell child, as what?”

 

“Ha-ha,” she said bashfully, “you were the troll.”

 

“Oh, I was huh?” he said laughing.

 

“But you were a very nice troll!” she said quickly.

 

“Rarr!” he said like the troll in the book.

 

“I hope you do not mind I dreamed that!’ she said smiling apologetically.

 

“Not at all. Now shall we begin the day?” he said.

 

“Oh yes!” she smiled.

 

He left to let her get dressed. When she came to breakfast she was wearing her Sunday dress.

 

“It is not Sunday,” he noted.

 

“I know but it is the nicest dress I own. I wanted to feel like a princess,” she replied, “Is it aright Papa?”

 

“Well, if you promise not to get dirty, I suppose you may wear your dress. Now eat,” he said pushing a bowl of porridge toward her.

 

All day she danced around light as a fairy. Valjean even bent some spare wire into wings for her and she was the happiest girl in France.

 

That night, she rushed up to him. “May we read?”

 

“It is only 7:30. Your bedtime isn’t till 8:30. Wouldn’t you rather go play?” he asked.

 

“If you don’t mind I much rather hear a story from you,” she said, turning her eyes to the floor.

 

“No, tis fine. We shall read two stories tonight,” he said.

 

They read and again, Cosette begged for just one more story. And him saying no. She would then skip off to bed. This went on for a month until one story arose.

 

“Papa, I am ready!” she called clutching the book. They now were reading the stories in her room because sometimes she would fall asleep and he hated to wake her.

 

“One moment my little dove!” he called up. She was giddy, what story might they read? _Maybe one about animals or perhaps one about mermaids._

 

A couple of minutes later, he came up. “Forgive my lateness, my little one,” he said smiling, “I trust you have said your prayers?”

 

“Yes Papa,” she said.

 

“Good girl,” he said as he pulled the covers up snug around her.

 

The book now had a small piece of parchment to mark the place. Valjean grabbed the book from the shelf and pulled up the usual chair next to her bed.

 

“Ready?” he asked and she nodded, “this is the story of Cinderella.” He read the story of the poor orphaned maid, and her evil stepmother and stepsisters. Cosette’s face began to fall and only slightly lightened when he finished with Cinderella marrying the prince.

 

“The End,” he said.

 

“Papa?” she asked.

 

“Yes we will read another story, that was a short one. I think we can slip in another story. Ah here’s a good one. The Rabbit...” he said before being cut off.

 

“Forgive me for interrupting papa, but I was wondering something,” she said her eyes drifting off.

 

“Yes?”

 

“I was wondering something, not so pleasant,” she said shyly.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Do you mind if I tell you?”

 

“No not at all,” he said beginning to worry.

 

“Even if it is wicked?” she asked.

 

“I suppose even if it is wicked,” he replied.

 

“Do you think ‘Ponine and Azelma will have their eyes pecked out?” she asked in a rush.

 

“Cosette, what a thing to say,” he said aghast.

 

“I mean they are like the evil step sisters,” she said.

 

It hit Valjean like the whips in Toulon. How could he have been so stupid? Cinderella’s story was similar to Cosette’s. He had been so insensitive, how could he read his child a story that brought back memories like that? He know realized Cosette always seemed to ignore that story and tonight he had foolishly not let her pick. He had always tried to shelter Cosette away from anything from her past and now he was telling her a story that was clearly her story.

 

Cosette was quiet. He couldn’t answer her. He didn’t know what to say. He wished her good night and blew her candle out. He replaced the book on the shelf and left quickly.

 

That night the dreams returned. He heard her toss and turn. His heart broke; he had caused her this distress. He entered her room, and saw her shaking like a leaf. He picked her up and sat her on his lap, as he sat on her bed. He didn’t say anything, because sometimes, words are not needed. Valjean sat there like that for an hour before she was at last back to a calm sleep.

 

The next morning he almost dreaded to see his child. He didn’t know if he could face her. He felt so guilty, felt worse than he did in Toulon.

 

He finally got up and dressed. It was still too early for Cosette to be up so he decided to quickly run to the baker’s around the corner and pick up some sweet buns he knew Cosette liked. He was just pulling on his coat when Cosette emerged from her room fully dressed.

 

“Cosette why are you up so early,” Valjean asked worriedly.

 

“No reason,” Cosette said simply.

 

“Are you angry with me?” Valjean asked. She was being so quiet.

 

“Never papa! Why would you think such a thought,” Cosette asked curiously.

 

“I was insensitive, I read you a story I knew wouldn’t be good for you,” Valjean said.

 

“Oh papa. Please don’t worry, I didn’t mind,” Cosette smiled, “I actually liked it.”

 

“liked it? Last night you seemed to dislike it,” Valjean pondered.

 

“No. I was kind of comforted. You see it made me feel I wasn’t so alone, that I wasn’t the cause but that those people liked sad lives like so many do, “ Cosette said wisely.

 

“Where did you get all of this wisdom eh?” Valjean asked. She had sounded so mature as if she lived a thousand lives and knew all of the secrets of the world.

 

“I suppose I learned from you papa,” Cosette beamed.

 

“Ah yes. This old man,” he chuckled and pointing to himself.

 

“Yes you! Papa where were you headed to?”

 

“I was just about to go to the bakery to grab us some breakfast. Join me?” he asked holding out his hand.

 

“Yes!” she said, “Though might I grab something?”

 

He nodded and she ran back to her room to fetch her fairy wings.

 

Together they walked down the street. A man holding a child’s hand who wore wire wings. People looked but neither cared, no one had to know.

 

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Marius, its time for us to read the children their bedtime story,” Cosette called into Marius’s office.

 

Cosette read her children a story every night just like her father did. In fact they read from the same book he had bought her all those years ago.

 

Marius arrived in the nursery and Cosette was already sitting her normal chair.

 

“Mama can I pick the story?” asked Flora.

 

“No, Flora you picked the story last night. It’s you brother’s turn,” Cosette chided gently.

 

Her youngest son picked up the old book and flipped through it. Finally, he found a story he liked because of the illustration of the man.

 

“Wonderful choice Gabriel,” Cosette said taking the book.

 

“This one is the Story of Robin Hood,” Cosette said, “ don’t remember ever reading this. This shall be an adventure for us all.”

 

“Read it mama!” Gabriel squealed.

 

“Yes yes, patients love. Now, once upon a time…” she began. Soon she realized something. When she finished the book she hastily kissed her children goodnight.

 

“Cosette are you alright?” Marius asked. He had been enjoying the story and playing the different voices. But his wife seemed suddenly so quiet.

 

He followed her into their room and he saw tears falling from Cosette’s face.

 

“Love! What’s wrong?” Marius said coming over to her and wrapping an arm around her.

 

“It’s just that story reminds me of papa so much!” she said wiping tears.

 

“What?” Marius asked confused. He wondered how a bow and arrow wielding Englishman related to her father.

 

“Papa, he always took from the rich to give the poor as the expression goes. Even though he never actually stole from the rich but he gave plenty to the poor,” Cosette reasoned.

 

“I see,” Marius mused. It was true. If anything Valjean stole from himself to help the beggars of Paris.

 

“I can see why he never read this story to me,” Cosette said gain composure, “I’m sorry for my actions just now. It has just been so long since he passed and very time something reminds me of him I feel a bit nostalgic.”

 

“Cosette, never apologize. Your father was a dear man, of course something like this would bring up memories,” Marius said feeling better his wife was perking up.

 

“I believe I read these stories so I can feel a bit closer. It's just Robin Hood made me feel for the first time in a long time close to him.” I can now something see what made papa give so much of what he had

 

“I wish I had someone who read me stories. Perhaps I would have enjoyed reading more as a child,” Marius laughed.

 

“His reading me stories was one of the best parts of my childhood. I am glad you make the funny voices, I am rubbish at it,” Cosette smiled.

 

“Rarr!” Marius growled.

 

“That reminds me of a story with a troll and a fairy princess. Do you want to know something utterly silly?”

“Anything.”

 

“Father made me a pair of wire wings that looped over my back like a knapsack. I used to run around in those things,” Cosette laughed.

 

“I am sure you looked adorable.”

 

“No I must have looked utterly ridiculous. I wish I still had those wings so I could give it Flora,” Cosette noted.

 

Cosette realized she was clutching the book in her hands still, “Goodness I must return the book before the children are fast asleep.”

 

“You do that love,” Marius said kissing her. He always thought she was the best mother in the world. She probably got it from her father.

 

Cosette was walking back to the nursery and flipping through pages when she saw something hand written. On one of the blank pages she saw her father’s writing

 

_Dear Cosette,_

_If you should find this letter then I will presume you have kept the book and possibly reading this to your children. Cosette I hope you can share the joy as I hope I did with you._

_Love always,_

_Papa_

She had no idea when he had written this but even now he was there with her in the book.

 

 


End file.
